Reincarnated into Two Bodies

Days continued to pass as I went with the flow in the academy whilst training myself more and more.

I was also happy to say that joint-training sessions became sort of a regular thing.

Every day, after classes, I would always have Leila reserve a practice chamber for the both of us. Sometimes Lionne, Attila, and the others would hop in as well. Not everyone was always present, however, since attending a training session every day probably sounded hellish to them. Not to me though. Thanks, Mother.

So, the only consistent members in this impromptu sparring club were the both of me along with Leila.

During the weekend, after Carine’s extra Honor class was done for the day, I had another training session scheduled. Unfortunately, when I asked if anyone was available for the day…

Attila wanted to visit several shops in the capital to see if there were any shops she could rely on for future custom-blade manufacturing.

Lionne needed to go back to her estate real quick for a family business briefing, something about her position as an heir to her family’s business.

Villius and Clarissa were swamped with assignments, probably the most normal reason of the bunch. But I never actually thought any of the assignments I had, either as Carine or Feyt, were particularly hard. I always finished them in a day or two.

Were they just slacking off, or was their class actually tougher than Honors somehow?

As for Kyro, he was apparently sick; I actually heard about how he was tossed around by a horse during class just the day before.

And Eve just said she had family matters to attend to, no context added, which I respected.

So, I fully expected today to be just me, myself, and Leila. However, two unexpected guests made their way into my orbit.

—

“Ohoho! This chamber will truly be blessed by the arrival of both of ourselves, is it not, Lady Carine?” a haughty lady laughed beside me as we walked together down the hall, a vibrant red fan fluttering near her lips.

“I can’t wait to see you fight, Feyt!” a giddy young man exclaimed on my other end, practically skipping beside me. “I bet you use some super-secret technique where you swing your sword so fast, you look like you haven’t moved!”

Yep. As you can see, the unexpected guests were Mirabelle and Ricent.

I had run into them separately while on the way to the private practice chamber. Now, let it be known that I knew for a fact I couldn’t actually train with them as mages. Magic was strictly prohibited in unauthorized facilities, a rule the academy had reinforced quite strictly ever since Ricent’s little remodeling project in the arena.

But they both seemed like they had absolutely nothing else to do today. Normally, they’d still be in class on weekends in one form or another, but apparently, today was a rare break for them. And honestly? I didn't mind having an audience. It beats looking at only myselves or Leila for comments.

However, the moment both of my bodies turned the final corner and met in the exact same hallway, I realized I had made a huge mistake bringing them here at the same time.

The very instant they stepped into each other's line of sight, both Ricent and Mirabelle’s eyes locked onto one another.

The air instantly plummeted to freezing temperatures.

“Wha—?! Why is that tactless, wall-crusher here—?!” Mirabelle gasped; her twin ringlets swung as her fan snapped shut.

“Oh! It’s fire lady!” the tactless, wall-crusher beamed, waving energetically. “Hey yo! Didn’t expect to see you after class!”

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“Huh?!” snarled the fire lady. She pointed her fan forward as if it were a blade. “You have some nerve talking to me like that! May I remind you that you’re the reason we’re stuck with a drafty arena?”

“Huh? How is that my fault?” Ricent lightly scratched the back of his ear, utterly clueless.

“Wha—Because you broke the wall! I can’t believe you are this clueless about—”

Aaaaaand, there they go.

I regret everything now.

It took everything I had in me not to drag my hands down my face.

—

The rhythmic sound of wooden swords colliding filled the room as I brought the self-fighting set with myself to a close.

I purposefully kept the pacing slow and methodical. If I started executing high-speed, barely legible flashes of moves like I usually did when I fought myselves, I’d probably drop their jaws right through the floorboards and invite a whole can of unwanted questions or rumors.

So, I kept it basic. A standard Sareid defensive form for Carine. A solid, grounded counter-stance for Feyt. It looked like a highly disciplined, respectful spar between a noble heir and her bodyguard, just what I needed.

But no matter how perfectly I controlled my movements, or how long the spar lasted, the atmosphere on the sidelines remained a weird mix of burning hot and freezing cold.

When both of my bodies finally stepped back, lowering our wooden blades, I glanced over at our spectators.

Ricent was practically vibrating on the edge of the mat. He sat with his legs crossed, his eyes wide and sparkling like an excited puppy waiting for its owner to throw a stick or something. He looked ready to jump up and cheer.

Mirabelle, on the other hand, stood as rigid as a statue. Her arms were firmly crossed over her vibrant dress, her chin tilted up in her signature haughty angle. Her eyes were sharp, pointed entirely to the side as she glared down at Ricent with absolute disdain.

“Man, that was awesome!” Ricent shouted, pumping a fist into the air. He leaned forward, flashing a massive, goofy grin at Feyt. “Go get her, Feyt! Show her how strong you really are! Hit her with that secret technique!”

Mirabelle’s fan snapped open loudly, enough to echo in the chamber.

“Pardon me?!” she gasped, taking a sharp, dramatic step toward him. “Go get her? Hit her?! Is that how you speak about the prestigious, immaculate Lady Carine, you uncultured brute? Sir Feyt is her shield, not her enemy! Have you no concept of chivalry or proper boundaries?”

“Eh? But it’s just a spar,” Ricent blinked, tilting his head with utter, innocent confusion. “Feyt’s really strong, you know? I know he can win!”

“May I remind you that it is Lady Carine that trained him?” she said, emphasizing her words. “If he has any chance of winning, it would only be because Lady Carine allowed him to win, understood?”

“Huh? Why would she let herself lose? Besides, Feyt is very—”

“—You clearly do not understand Lady Carine’s generosity, do you? Very well, then I must—”

Ah, this again.

If I just let them be, I had no doubts their debate on power-scaling the two of me would last for an entire day.

But I knew I couldn't just separate them without cause. I needed something to truly take their minds off each other. Otherwise, even Carine’s ears might start bleeding.

“Mirabelle, Ricent,” I called out to them as Carine. “I have always been curious about how a mage truly fights. Would you two be willing to share your experience and knowledge with us?”

Mirabelle was the first to react. Her haughty disdain vanished in an instant, replaced by a radiant, star-struck expression. “Would I?!~ Oh, I mean… y-yes! Of course, Lady Carine! Allow me to demonstrate the magnificent fruits of my labor!”

“Me too! Me too!” Ricent chimed in, jumping up from the floor and waving his hand frantically. “I know all sorts of cool stuff now!”

Mirabelle shot him one last glare before turning back to Carine, her expression instantly resetting into an adoring, elegant smile. “Then it is settled. I shall share what I can, Lady Carine!”

Good, that stopped them at least.

But simply listening to a lecture wasn't going to satisfy the lingering itch in my muscles, nor would it be enough to truly make them distance themselves from one another.

“In that case, Mirabelle,” I said as Carine adjusted the grip on my wooden training blade. “Would you be open to a brief spar with me? You may use low-power magic for the spar, if you like.”

Mirabelle’s eyes went completely wide, her fan pausing mid-flutter. “A-A spar? With me? And… w-w-with magic?!”

She looked as though she had just been handed a deed to a mansion for free. A massive grin broke across her face as she rapidly nodded, her twin ringlets bouncing. “Why, a mage’s true brilliance can only be glimpsed through spells! A spar simply wouldn't be right without magic, Lady Carine! I accept!”

If it was strictly low-power magic, it should be fine inside a private chamber, right?

Surely Mirabelle of all people knows how to control her power… right?

Ignoring those anxious thoughts, I settled into a stance as Carine, occupying one side of the mat.

"Please," I said, leveling my wooden blade toward her, slightly anticipating the match. "Show me what you've learned."

“With pleasure!”

What followed next…

…was a sharp reminder of why Ricent called her the Fire Lady.